Happy Endings
by Baloo
Summary: One night was all it was supposed to be... One night to forget, to feel a little less alone, to make it just a bit better. But someone didn't keep up their end of the bargain. MA -- A glimpse from both sides.
1. Alec

**Disclaimer:**  I promise to put them back, not too worse for the wear, once I'm done.  The lyrics are from Sarah McLachlan's "Mercy".  The song doesn't go very well with this, but the lyrics do.

**Summary:**  One night was all it was supposed to be…  One night to forget, to feel a little less alone, to make it just a bit better.  But only one of them kept up their end of the bargain.  M/A

**Rating:**  PG-13… for one bad word and some images.

**A/N:**  I really seem to be in angst mode these days, so that's all I can say in way of explanation for where this came from.  Actually, I seem to be in Alec-angst mode… poor guy, I just won't leave him alone.

Happy Endings 
    
    There's no hope in regretting now
    
    All the pain that we could not see
    
    We both knew what we wanted
    
    And we took it, believing it free

I should have said no.  Hell, I shouldn't have even let it get to the point where there was anything to say no to.

But when you came to me with that look in your eyes… well, I recognized that look.  I'd seen it too many times reflected in the mirror.  Too many nights I'd wasted away in those feelings, too much of me had just wasted away.  You wanted to forget—everything.  Everything you could have had, everything you couldn't have any more.  You wanted to forget that you'd ever been in love.

And I wanted you to forget too.  I wanted you to be happy, even if for just a little while, especially if that little while was spent with me.  I wanted you—

I wanted you.

So when you kissed me and said, just one night, I agreed.

No attachments.

When you pushed your hands under my shirt, coaxed it up, pulled it over my head, I let you.  Then I did the same to yours.  Maybe I couldn't have your heart, but I could have your body and pretend the rest came with it.

I'm great at pretending, you know.  I've done it my whole life.  I've been doing it since I met you, and long before that.  And sometimes I wonder if I won't be pretending until the day I die.

But you're good at pretending too, aren't you?

When you ripped open my fly, yanked down my pants, leaving them bunched around my ankles because you couldn't bother with my shoes.  When you did the same to yours, except yours came off all the way, or this wouldn't work.  When you pushed me down onto the bed, pulled yourself up over me, then down and around me.  When the only sounds in the room were those of heavy breathing, half-strangled moans, and flesh meeting flesh.

You never said my name.  With all that passion, and all that lust, you never once said a thing.  But I know inside your head you were screaming, screaming loud—just not my name.

You kept your eyes shut tight; I kept mine wide open.  It was dark in the room, shadows and no light, but with that night vision it doesn't make much of a difference, does it?  I saw everything.  You didn't want to see a thing.

You're great at pretending too.

And afterward, as we lay there, in the silence, I wanted to ask you, so what was it like to finally fuck Logan?  Because that's what you did, in your mind, and maybe in my mind too.  I never had you—in yours, or mine.  But I didn't ask since that wouldn't have earned any brownie points with you.  It wouldn't have been good for our friendship, and I need our friendship.  Because without it, what would I have left?

In the morning, you said, you'll leave.  Bright and early before the others get up; after all, you have a nation to run now.  Burdens and obligations and responsibilities.

I know you're supposed to be the one who doesn't sleep, but here you are, drifting in your dreams.  And here I am, lying wide-awake, watching you.  In the morning you'll leave and things will return to status quo, and we'll pretend this never happened.  You'll go back to Logan with his latex gloves, sharing your meaningful glances and heartfelt sighs.  And I'll go back to being… me.  Peripheral.  Comic relief, punching bag, backup—whatever you need.

But tonight I lie here, cradling your body, watching the peaceful contentment on your face as I gently trace the curve of your cheek, the soft roundness of your chin, the full lines of your lips.  And I pretend this is my happily ever after.

In the morning, when you leave, I'll lie here alone, cold and empty, and I'll pretend I never wanted one in the first place.

--fin--


	2. Max

**Disclaimer:**  Not mine.  Lyrics are from Over the Rhine's "All I Need".

**A/N:**  I was going to leave it at a one-shot, but then I got to thinking that maybe Max deserved a say too.

Happy Endings 
    
    Calm down.  Be Still.
    
    We've got plenty of time to kill.
    
    No handwriting on the wall
    
    Just the voice that's in us all.
    
    And you're whispering to me,
    
    Time to get up off my hands and knees,
    
    Cause if I beg for it, it won't come.

Would it make a difference if I said I was sorry?

I don't think it would.  I remember all those times you apologized to me, and then I thought it wasn't even worth the breath you used to speak the words.  But I know now that you really meant it, just as I really mean it now.

And isn't it always so much worse when you really mean it.

It would be so easy to pretend this was all beyond our control.  That I was in heat, you were only reacting.  That it was the pheromones that took away our choice.

But no, it wasn't; it wasn't anything of the sort.  We made our choice consciously, fully aware of all consequences.  And the consequences were plenty.

Was I supposed to be your role model, your guide on how to be human?  If so, maybe I did a better job than even I could have imagined.  Because humans are fallible, they make mistakes.

I made a mistake.

It was a moment of weakness, and I needed someone… someone to be weak with me.

It was desire—desire to touch, to be touched, to be held and caressed.  A primitive need that burned too strong to be denied.  And in the night, in the darkness of this room, where there was only our two bodies clinging together, we burned together.

Even as I saw the doubts that shadowed your eyes, saw the fear that lingered there, I pushed you on.  When I saw how you wanted to stop, maybe just as much as you wanted this to happen, I pushed you on.  I saw that you realized there would be no pretending this never was, no going back to life as if nothing had changed—when _everything_ had—and god help me, I pushed you on.

Then I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to see what I was doing—to you, to myself, to… everyone else.  I squeezed them shut so you wouldn't see the tears that gathered there, and I bit my lip to keep from crying out, so I wouldn't say anything I might later regret.

If you don't say his name, I won't either, and I won't think of him.  I'll pretend there's no reason for this guilt.  I'll pretend this was as right as it felt.

He's been good to me, you know.

Maybe not _for_ me, but _to_ me.  And I love him, I do.

I told you that I'd leave in the morning—but really, I was telling you that I'd leave.  I saw the disappointment in your expression, the pain you were so quick to hide.  But I pretended not to.  When you pretended you were fine with that, I pretended right alongside you.

If I thought you didn't care, it would be easier; but if you didn't care, would I be here?

Now, as we lie here, waiting out the hours until morning, the hours until life resumes as "normal", I know you think I'm asleep, and I let you believe that.  I feel the warmth of your arms around me, your fingers on my face, gentle, reverent, and I wonder what I ever did to deserve this devotion.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I dragged you into this.  I'm sorry I never gave you credit for all that you did—for me, for others—I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I couldn't be a better guide.

But most of all, I'm sorry that I can't say any of this out loud.

--fin--


End file.
